


can't win with your hands tied

by brinnanza



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider, because all nazis should be egged and also deplatformed, borrowing real life events for shenanigans, direct action featuring eggs, let's say crowley was Inspired to egg a different additional nazi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 12:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19318003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinnanza/pseuds/brinnanza
Summary: The news agents will all claim later that it’s a trick of the light, something about the precise angle of the sun reflecting off the nearby buildings that prevents the man’s face from being captured clearly on camera





	can't win with your hands tied

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [ this post](https://tadfield-advertiser.dreamwidth.org/517.html?thread=67589#cmt67589) on the tadfield advertiser requesting a fic of crowley [egging a nazi in new york](https://nypost.com/video/new-york-nazi-gets-egged-after-homophobic-comments/) and this lil drabble just sort of slipped out. The title is from queen's "fight from the inside" even though I called it something else on the meme because I have a Rule about good omens fic titles that I forgot when I posted while sleepy.

The news agents will all claim later that it’s a trick of the light, something about the precise angle of the sun reflecting off the nearby buildings that prevents the man’s face from being captured clearly on camera. And yet everyone who sees the clip - and it is seen by quite a few people, thanks to the rapid spread of viral videos on the internet - is met with the vague suggestion of yellow eyes, sharp fangs, a forked tongue; there and gone like deja vu.

The news agents also do not remark upon the provenance of the egg, which by all accounts had simply come from thin air, plucked from the ether like a ripe apple from a tree. Sleight of hand, it’s tacitly agreed. Why someone would keep an egg up their sleeve is hardly worth questioning; New York is full of all sorts, after all, and amateur magicians are far from the strangest of folk.

The prim, well-dressed gentleman barely visible in the background of the shaky footage merits a comment or two on various write ups of the incident. It’s far too pixelated to make out his expression, but several witnesses who later find themselves curiously unable to recall either face with any clear detail do remember the huffy little sigh he'd made when shell met skull, the fond, indulgent smile that belied any real irritation. How he tsked at his companion when he was rejoined but followed it up with a kiss pressed to his cheek.

And if the faint, sulfurous scent of rotten eggs continued to follow the unpleasant fellow who’d spouted such hateful, bigoted language, no matter how many times he washed his hair, well, surely that was just karma.

Nothing miraculous about it.


End file.
